“Wow,” Talon whispers behind me. “You’re dead.”
I ignore him. I meet her halfway, because waiting even two more seconds feels impossible.
“Hi,” she says, voice soft, nerves fluttering under it.
“Lucy.”
Her name comes out low, rough. Too rough. I clear my throat, try again. “You look…”
No good words exist. Not for this.
She lets out a shaky laugh. “You too. You, um—clean up well.”
“I showered,” I say.
She laughs harder, and damn if that doesn’t make me want to drag her somewhere dark and kiss her until I forget the rest of the world exists.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask, forcing the words out evenly.
“Hot cocoa.” She gestures toward the refreshment table. “It smells amazing.”
We walk there together, close but not touching, the space between us full of things we haven’t said. Every time her dress brushes her leg, my gaze darts down. Every time she glances up through her lashes, it knocks the air out of me.
She takes a cup and lifts it to her lips. I watch her mouth—too long. Too nakedly. And she notices.
Her cheeks flush deeper. “You good?”
Not even slightly.
“You shouldn’t wear that dress,” I say.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”
I drag a hand through my hair, frustrated. “Not—you look incredible. Too incredible. It’s distracting.”
Her eyes widen, pupils blooming. “Distracting.”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” She sips from her cup, hiding a smile.
Good? I swallow hard.
Someone starts music. Gentle, holiday-themed. Couples drift to the dance floor, swaying under the lights. The whole atmosphere softens, warm, hazy. Lucy watches them, her expression dreamy.
“Dance with me,” I hear myself say.
She startles. “What?”
I step closer, close enough to smell the faint cinnamon on her skin. “Dance with me.”
“I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“I do.”
Her breath shivers. Slowly, almost cautiously, she sets her cup down on the table. Then she places her hand in mine. Heat shoots straight up my arm.
I lead her to the floor, hand at the small of her back, fingers pressing the fabric of her dress. She steps into me, soft, warm, trusting. The music swells. We move together, her body fitting against mine like it’s meant to be there. Her hand rests on my chest. She breathes in, slow, shaky, her fingers flexing lightly against my shirt.
